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daisypie's Blog


madness

at what point can you call yourself dead? When you stop breathing? Or when you stop all basic human function? Or most even, limited eating, limited movement, bed-bound, just sleeping and sleeping through each day..
life becomes a blur of bizzarre, dark dreams that you should have become used to by now.Your cold, damp house still has boards instead of windows, blocking any sunlight you would see if you weren't sleeping through each day. Your arms have become a mess of bruises and track marks. You tried injecting a heroin substitute the other day...it wasn't nice...
on the weekend, you became extremely influenced by a mix of drink, speed and heroin and smashed a pint glass into your ex boyfriend's face. He ran down the street in fear, whilst you sprinted after him, a demon rising from the pit of your mind as you muttered "i'm dragging you to hell with me".
You both tell the police it was a young man and they believe it. You follow to the hospital, where at one point, you let out a miserable, raw howl and fall to your knees, smashing your head repeatedly off the polished floors. You feel nurses hands, soft and manicured; flawless, pulling you up and telling you firmly to stop. You sit in a cubicle and get your blood pressure taken, all the while only semi-consious of the lines of snot hanging from your nose as you sob harshly, your chest juddering in loss of hope.
A "liason officer" , assumably for mental health comes to see you and doesnt say anything as you explain you're going to kill yourself if they don't section you. He gives you the crisis team's number and sends you on your way again. You realise no matter what you do, they wont help, and you're going to end up dead or in prison. Its a desperately scary place to be in.

nothing new

Got a new boyfriend. He has bipolar and is smarter than me. Ex finally moved out. Taking heroin. Front door is broke. Drinking every day. Missed the last ever contact with my daughter. In a ridiculously turbulant relationship even though I knew we would clash from the start, why would somebody with bpd choose to get with someone with bipolar? Everyone hates me and says I cheated on him. Everyone in central town. I wont see her as a baby ever again now and its all my fault. Sinking sinking sinking sinking sinking
yeah thats pretty much it

tired

 I have to do it on my own-cant they see how HARD it is to make the appointments-its my life choices I should sort it-people are DYING because of their unresponsible fucking arseholes-they can't wave a magic wand-it's my disorder which prevents me from getting down there!-they cant find enough staff its not just you getting it-I can hardly set foot outside the fucking house im too ill-everyone has to make their own first step-young people are overdosing and killing themselves because they didnt reach out to them-you can't be breast fed all your life youre an adult FIX IT-IM GOING TO END UP DEAD, THIS ISNT RIGHT, I'M STUCK HERE DOING THESE THINGS AND I CANT STOP,fucking for affection with anyoneSAD BITCH JUST GET FUCKING BETTER NO MORE  CANT EAT CANT SLEEP JUST DRINK DRINK DRINKPILLS DRINK 
my head. I'm tired...those sleepers work well if you take about 4..

trolls.

Okay, this entry is going to be quite interesting. One, because people who go onto the internet and hide behind a screen and say disgusting things to try and mock you, usually the best thing to do is ignore them and move on. They want a reaction. This one however, was different.
"lobotomizer247", I didnt even bother to memorize the numbers in his name correctly, decided to comment some vicious opinions on my stories, and as anyone who reads my stuff knows that I am a promiscuous person. I have revealed that on here. But that's not all. Oh no. They found my vice, and started to message me that they are happy that my daughter was taken from me, because I "should keep my legs closed and it wouldnt have happened".
Okay, I will take that with me and think for a while. Let's see....ah, i've came to the conclusion that your one, conservative little brain cell must have worked up a sweat typing that one, and I pity you. 
One, I have revealed on here, on a personal profile on the internet, that yes, I like to have sex. I may sleep with people who I have only known a few hours, even. Maybe, just maybe I will go as far as saying that it may be a weakness of mine. But if I choose to take somebody back to my home, and use protection, why is this something to be ashamed of? Yes, I run the risk of gaining a reputation, and also it may definately give men a pre-conceived idea of me.
But after a long, tiring fight with the authorities to get my daughter, after being stamped into the dust and left as this weak, angry alcoholic, ONLY because we had no chance from the very beginning, even when we gave up and changed EVERYTHING in our lives the moment I found myself pregnant - WHICH was with my long term partner of the time, fyi....
this spineless, sleazy little keyboard warrior, thinks he can tell me - like he has ANY idea of the struggles I have faced and my compassion and empathy towards others - that I dont deserve my own child because I have slept with people? And let me press this point - the actions and choices I have made have been down to the fact that my daughter has never lived at home with me. These stupid, ignorant little people who just assume something is right because theyre meant to be a trusted service ....not knowing about the subtle manipulation and twisted plans they had already made to steal away a couples baby ...you think I would take home strange men if my daughter was asleep upstairs? No. But she's not here. Because we were told that we would never be good enough to raise our own child because of things that had happened in our past, our daughter was taken from the hospital. This service, that can casually walk into peoples lives, and tell them that because of their past mistakes they dont get the chance to be a family...
one of my favourite things about social services is the word that they use. "Safeguarding". It sounds so legitimate, doesnt it? 
"Oh, we see here that this person has been arrested for drunk and disorderly last year. They must be a horrible raging alcoholic by now. We must prevent this child from being abused."
Oh God just realised I have went into full rant mode. I'll conclude.
mr Lobotomizer - username a large and quite crude word to show how intelligent and anti-social hes trying too hard to be - troll the fuck out of me. Call me a w/hore, call me anything you want. But don't you dare f/ucking use the situation with my daughter as ammo to try and ruffle my feathers. Or - in the words of Liam Neeson - I will find you, and I will kill you.
Thankyou.

on the subject of my sexuality...

So i've came back to check out my blog. My last entry has left me mortified, and I have no idea why I feel the need to share that with you all. As i've said many times, I see this place as a sanctuary for myself, a place where I don't get judged or the judgement doesnt matter. Recently I got some petty criticism on this site, by "lobotomizer" or whatever clever little name they had thought up for themselves, basically calling me a "wh/ore". And that's okay, because a lot of my stories and blogs do contain gory details and exploits of my s/ex life. That's my choice and if people choose to read them and get offended, that's their own problem, and don't need to point out what they think. I honestly let it go over my head, until I found a comment on my story about losing my daughter to social services, which said,  "dont worry, they do that to all prostitutes". Now you can call me all the s/luts, skanks, w/hores under the sun, whatever. But bringing the loss of my daughter into this? There is no good, decent reason as to why my child got taken away from me. There is people who are cruel and neglectful to children and there is a good reason for their children to be removed. But us? No. Its not funny to mock the fact that this has happened to me. 
Either way I have decided to remove my last blog, as I think a lot of the information in that is quite shocking and I shouldnt expect anything more but criticism from that little information!
So anyway, i'm trying to write an update on what's been happening recently, but find myself slightly distracted and unsettled. I feel tense and stressed, and have been taking a lot of tramadol recently. my usage has gone back up to 8 a day. I'm numb and drowsy most of the time, and get strange twitches in my limbs. I'm constantly worried about my health.
my windows remain unfixed after they were put through by a girl who gatecrashed into my house...the landlord, who is infamous for being one of the worst around here - refuses to replace them until I cough up enough money. But here's the twist - he wont tell me how much. We've spoken to a professional ...window guy, (not sure what to call him!) and been told that at the most it should cost 70 pounds altogether. But they wont tell me that, they think they can rip me off. 
On top of this, the lads who live at the end of the road have finally decided to start giving us grief. When first moving there, because of the bullying i've recieved all of my life I was quite surprised that they hadnt noticed the giant target painted on my forehead. I had let my guard down, when of course they start to bother us. Lew is now known as "woolhead", because he doesnt have a buzzcut like them clones in tracksuits who sit drinking at the end of the street, and now, they've even decided we're that soft that they can stroll into the house via the back door to ask for a cigarette. Im currently trying to figure out what to do, with my mam and friends telling me I should go to the police. But what if that one guy who threatened us gets arrested, then his family and friends try attacking us, because we got him locked away?
Well I guess that's whats been going on, no surprise really, just the continuing shit storm that is my life. Some day, hopefully soon, i'll have some positive news to write about here.

a new, positive outlook. Fighting

So i'm going to make sure this blog has positive aspects too, because the state of my lifestyle and mental health the past couple weeks has been so horrendous that its literally fight or flight. I need to kid myself, at least, that some things are going to look up for me. Otherwise I will lose all effort to live entirely.
Btw, by mental health I dont mean neccessarily my anger or self destruction this time. I mean the self destruction is an on-running thing, yet I havent had many outbursts lately. There's still dried sweet chilli chicken in a splattered shape across my living room wall from the last big one...but lately its mainly been depression. Nothing else but raw emptiness and misery. It's like i've deflated, lost all hope, theres not even any point in getting angry anymore.
Okay so things that have happened since my last entry:
The carer for Thea has yet again dropped out. All she had to do was wait until May, when there's the final hearing in court, where she will be granted a "special guardianship". Which basically means once the social workers kindly f*ck off, we would be able to see our daughter whenever Kath allows us, which could have been every day if she was fine with that, seen as she is a "close" family friend.
But no, she dropped out of that and now we are looking at Thea going up for adoption and will never see her again.
Our neighbour has said we could put her name down, which is the last ever hope.
I kept thinking it was all over before, but somehow we would pick ourselves up and still make it to contact, but in my eyes, since she was born it was as if she was never MY daughter, her life is run by social services and the two carers she has had upto now. But once Kath had got the special guardianship, we would have taken her off her hands whenever possible. It wouldnt have been hard. She would have hardly had to do anything. She looks after her daughter's screaming 2 year old whilst the daughter sits on her arse upstairs, yet she's saying its too much responsibility looking after a very good 6 month old. Yeah makes sense.
But what can we say to them to make them realise how much they've let us down? We would be branded unfair, that we cant expect to force people into responsibility.
We wouldnt have had to, if they didnt steal her away in the first place. And another solution is: Don't agree to it if youre not in it for the long haul.
My drinking habits continue to be terrible, binge-ing for days on end, beginning to get twitchy on the mornings...
the torture of having a creative mind yet being too lazy to do anything about it continues, that little voice in my head is still there - "DO SOMETHING, DO SOMETHING, DO SOMETHING-"
although, I have been strong and fought against it. Ive started to go easier on myself, changed my mindset. 
"you're going through some shit. You're young and still naive in ways. Take your time. Every day you get through, makes you a better person. Other people's opinions? Dont matter. You know what you've been through, and you've came out the other side. Youre surviving. That's enough for now."
hoovering up is like an achievement. Also did some brief doodling in a sketchbook, doesnt seem like much but it's about getting back into the habit so I can start on bigger projects again.
Friday was an awesome night. Usually things go wrong, but Friday was just unreal. Me and Lew went to old skool rave night, got some UV paint and done our faces, had some pills (unlike my alcohol habits, I am very careful with my drug intake. I take things very carefully and in moderation. Just so you know) and just danced and loved everyone all night. I spoke to many new people, they all liked me, I hugged everyone, and yes, I got my object of affection to come back with me again. The night ended heavenly...(reminiscing...hmm)
although I achieved nothing productive in the long run, it was f*cking brilliant. Everyone searches for happiness in some form or another, and I achieved it friday night. Sometimes, I have to stop worrying about indulgence. Everyone should indulge in life in some way or another. And for once, rather than punishing myself for having a good time, now im saying "you deserved it."
One more thing, I have re-applied for cleveland college of art and design. I passed one course there and its an amazing College, yet dropped out of my media course twice due to the constant life issues etc.
so this time I applied for Fine Art. Only thing is they say you need at least 4 GCSE'S at C or above to join, and I dont have the qualifications...I have 2 above C's and that's it...
but...people have lied on application forms before, right? I mean, thats a thing you can do isn't it?
(I hope so...)
but yeah, if they find out and I dont get on the course, I'll pick myself up, and try again.
All in good time and Baby steps, ill get there.



again

so I missed 2 appointments of my DBT. I rung in on one occasion, to say I was sick...but unfortunately theyve discharged me,due to, quote
"lack of motivation to change". That's the letter they sent me.
Maybe I should send a letter to Sarah Ryan.
"This worker has had her car burned out due to lack of motivation to work, including 3 sick leaves and one annual leave, in the space of just under a year".
maybe then they wil learn what equal rights are, and maybe itll help them practise what they preach. Which is
"all of us make mistakes. You have to be understanding of the person you're working with also, and know that they're just as human as you are."
Right, so im guessing she should lose her job?
Nah. That bitch will still be reeling in the fat paychecks, no worries in the world, whilst continuing to neglect people who need the patience and understanding.

in a terrible place

the last few day's events have finally caught up with me. I was out last night too, until I was slurring and staggering, spent the night alone in my spare room because the upstairs window was still broken and not boarded. My ex's pokemon collective figures have gone, my whole DVD collection, even my shampoo and conditioner. But I cant go back there. I dont want to clean up the mess. I must escape. I KNOW I cant forever. Im trembling. My neck aches from head banging at rock night last night and im shakey all over. I can't drink again but something inside is telling me to continue my path of self destruction, to keep on destroying myself, maybe i'll finally lose my rational thought and they will take me to hospital?
My head wont stop screaming help. I cant let it out, I dont know what to do. I cant get it together.
I need help. But will I even accept it? I know I need it...but will I push it away or accept it?
I honestly dont know what could get me out of this despair....other than to drink it all away again, my body is crying for me to stop...im so exhausted and empty and twitchy, nervous...
I just cant keep it together. Somebody needs to pick up my pieces. Metaphorically and literally. Like the shards of glass all over my house.
This is a really bad place. Somebody help

crashed

okay so...last night I was drinking again, after reffering myself to the kings road alcohol services, with my ex and his best friend. We were getting drunk at some guys house with a girl there, when I decided it would be a great idea if they all came back to my house and we drank there.
After a few hours I was drunk to the point of not being able to string words together (which is EXTREMELY drunk, to me) and there was people I didnt even know swanning through the house. It wasn't so much that....but it's the fact they were speaking down to me, not respecting that it was my place they were in , not shairng whatever they had. So I got upset, the house was packed full of young lads I had known from school, who were trouble causers, and also an older lad who I had met before known as "sparky". Also 40 pound of my money had gone.
Cutting a long story short - (this really isnt a time for creative writing, im just getting straight to the point. Im tired and hungover). They tried getting in through my bedroom window, so I screamed at them to f*ck off, when the window miraculously just shattered in front of my eyes, and nearly in the eyes of sparky, whom was currently stood outside of it.
I dont know if it was him, I cant remember if it was him who punched it through or somebody behind him. But before I could even ponder this I heard another crash and my bottom floor window had been put through as well.
So I ran away crying, ringing the police. Couldnt face the house because I would have started kicking ass and possibly have got my ass kicked too.
But basically im currently sat at my mother's house, wondering what to do. We got a crime number and we have to tell the landlord.
I had really been doing well these past few days. And my decisions and the scum around me destroyed it. I dont even want to do anything but drink again, and abandon my house with all my belongings in it, because I cant stand looking at the state it's in after that interesting gathering last night. So it's left, open access to the public while we try to work it out.

I need to talk about something fun and amusing rather than this..

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the inevitable breakdown.

Finally this man has realised what i'm like.
Of course he split up with me last night, after the past few days of my numerous bursts of anger and irritation and storming off. I feel sad, but also, knew it was coming to save myself the pain. I can tell, hes swaying with the idea already and is really torn up. But yeah it got too much for him, the thing I was pissed off about though was the fact that I WARNED him, and he kept on telling me he would cope. 
I knew from the very beginning it wouldnt last. I just dont like believing that anything good would happen to me, that such a lovely guy would be interested in me, in case I get dissapointment. So by preparing myself for the break up, its saved me the pain of being left again.
The worst was when I was drunk last night, thats when it happened.
He wanted to go home, but I was still dancing and drinking and enjoying myself. I got annoyed because he was tutting and sighing , so kicked off, telling him hes ruined my night pressuring me to go, and then I wouldnt drop it. Even after he said
"ok, im sorry". It wasnt good enough for me of course, I kept going on.
"It doesnt matter now my whole fucking night has ended bad, wasted money, I TOLD you I dont fucking like pressure, I TOLD you.."
So I stormed away again. Only this time, finally, he didnt follow.
Oh No. Please, not this.
I knew it was going to happen eventually, yet, as always, it hit me like a ton of bricks, like repeated slaps across my face, like having a heart attack that doesnt kill you just keeps going, my head screaming and my ears ringing.

He's left me. He knows im upset and he has just left me. Im alone.

I tried ringing him, and heard the one thing I knew was going to happen, and grabbed hold of my hair to try and stable the emotional pain.
"Im sorry Daisy, I cant deal with this anymore. Its over"
 Cant remember much after that. But the doorman from the bar we were in approached me apparently and had to prise glass out of my hand which I had stabbed into my wrist, and tried calling the police or an ambulance and I ran.
My friend Mark, who is a sweet autistic guy who has been in a psychiatric ward in the past, was there to witness it, and apparently I smashed my phone in the middle of the road and was screaming and sobbing. I'm just lucky he stuck by my side, he was there for me because he knows, he knows the anguish that comes with not being able to cope wth day to day life like others, so needs the help and support and ends up on a ward, which is where im heading.
 
off subject, but I cant seem to get off fucking italic writing. But oh well.
I found Adam at his friends house. I grabbed hold of him and begged him to not do this to me, and he was telling me to go home with mark. I begged him to let me stay one more night, I got on my knees, and a girl passed by sniggering. Yet again my meltdown causing me humiliation.
"please God dont leave me like that...please, im scared.."
he caved in and let me come in. His friends are cool, you dont need to feel self concious round them, which I usually do with people in general, unless i'm really drunk. All I knew at that point was I needed to block everything the fuck out, and get myself as fucked as possible until I black out. That was the only thought in my mind to make the burning pain go away. They had no drink left, but then Dan said
"well, not exactly.. our housemates had a party and the room next door is empty and not in use but theres a shit load of booze left over.."
I was out the room before he could finish, and we went in and found cactus jack's, wine and vodka, and started to drink the vodka straight. I then necked off the three-quarter full bottle of wine in one go, then started on the cactus jacks but only had a few swigs. 
Mark made some friends which I was pleased about, because of his asperger's he is a lonely guy. I hooked him up with my friend and try my hardest to make him enjoy himself, in return to him being there for me. He really is such a sweet guy...I feel the need to mother him. If we're out and about and anyone casts even a hostile look in his direction, I flip. 
We went back in the room and all I remember is standing up to go home with Adam and nearly falling over.
Now, this is not in any way anything to show off about, but I am  HEAVYweight when it comes to drinking. It takes a fucking vat to get me drunk. Because of my drinking habits over the years, although scientifically it shouldnt be that hard because I have a skinny frame. I wish I was a lightweight, itd cost less money and effort...
but anyway, I ended up more drunk than I have ever been in a LONG time. Adam had to carry me on his back home, my hat lopsided on my head and my arms limp, giggling. That was my intention, I wanted to destroy myself with whatever would make me forget.
Adam wasnt happy. Although he couldnt be with me anymore, he still wanted to help me home so I was safe, so he had to carry me to his place, tutting and sighing.
"this is what I am," I remember slurring.
"I told you I was fucking scum."
"Daisy, just please try not talking.." he sighed, and sounded sad but annoyed at the same time.
"just focus on holding onto me and im putting you to bed where youre safe".
I held on for dear life. I clung to him, wishing I could be absorbed into him somehow, forever.
I think at some point, I fell off his back and he tried to get me back on, and I managed to jump onto him and knock us both over, so I just layed there laughing while he brushed himself off, embarrased and now - its safe to say - pissed off.
"just get up please..." he sighed.

the next day I woke up with a sandy tongue and banging headache, and he said he wanted to talk to me.

"if it's about how you dont want to be with me anymore I get it. Just let me ring a cab" I said frostily. He paused.

"I'm sorry."

my heart was already calloused over. Ive lost my daughter and given up on her, and ive been drinking and fucking the pain away, clinging on to people and jumping into new relationships, comfort eating. So I felt nothing.

I still don't. Because from the very beginning, I knew I would do this. This is how I prepare. Never expect good things to happen to me, and never let them weaken me and make me believe it will be happy forever. Theyre just a cover up to pain. A temporary pain reliever. Everything. Guys, drugs, drink...Adam was something different. He is more than the drink and drugs. But I knew, all along, and think I fucked it up deliberately so it would hurt when I got any closer.







so its going wrong already

yeah so ive been seeing someone else like I mentioned. Adam decided to officially call me his girlfriend last week, and now weve been involved in general for 3 weeks. I feel content. But now, painfully typical traits are once again rising to the surface, related to my mental health issues. Lets list them
1. low self-esteem, delusional thoughts
okay, so in the bedroom area, its...decent. This is going to sound so wrong but I have had better sex, but relationships are not meant to be based on purely sex. Well they can be, i've tried that, but either me or the other person gets emotionally attached and it messes it up. There is quite a few concerns in this area, some are quite right and I can see how they are reasonable, such as he is very very cautious of protection. It goes without saying that this is in fact a GOOD thing, whereas I cant help but miss that spontaneous "in the bedroom" activity, where it just happens, and there's no fumbling about. But thats how I ended up having a child and had her took out of my care, I suppose. My impulsive behaviour is not good, yet its a part of me I havent quite yet been able to control. But anyway on the self esteem subject...because he doesnt verbalize how it was for him - I assume I was bad. I know im being delusional, yet at the same time cannot shake the feeling of feeling un-wanted. He told me "actions speak louder than words". Not in my eyes. I voice everything. I'm overly honest. I need it to be expressed clearly to me otherwise I assume the worst and have doubts pretty much in anything I am trying to have some pride in.
2. clingy-ness
this one is so complex. Because as of yet he hasnt pushed me away, which is when I beg for attention. But its turned out me being here, pretty much every single damn day. I know I should at least try, just try to spend a few days at home, but being alone means thinking, and I don't want to do that. These past 2 months have been hard. Hard as in i have been on a route of destruction. Lots of drinks and drugs, etc. and over-indulgence. I also comfort eat, yet am one of the lucky ones who doesnt put the weight on. But I have eaten nothing but fast food for a long time. Its scaring me how comfortable i'm getting with him now. Ive told him this. I have tried...ive tried to explain that comfort is NOT a good thing for me. I need to feel put in one place because if I dont I control everything around me that allows me to do it, and I have just been so desperate to make this one WORK. But the time we have spent together, i've reached the comfortable phase, where I can voice when i'm feeling irritated. Which is pretty much every 7.5 seconds.
3. Pushing away
because of the second reason, this is the worst. I have been running away from him. Literally. Running, down the street, running out of the house, desperate to get away in that moment, so as to just not fuck it up. This upsets him a lot. When in that moment, I just have to get away. Whereas I know there is something right down at the other end of the line to this which is just as intense, which is the feeling for him to not go. I'm glad it hasnt got to that. But remember my last blog? I REALLY liked this guy. Now ive found out that he likes me, has mutual feelings AND - the worst fucking mistake he has made in his life - runs AFTER me when I run away, now it's pretty much fucked. He really likes me back. And I dont know if I can handle it, because now i'm trying to gain control over everything, snapping at him, and the same patterns are starting once again, all over again, and I know, just KNOW how its all going to end.
I need to find a way to stop this behaviour. I really want to, need to, to stay in a happy relationship. I think the first thing im going to do is distance myself, in a nice way. Like spend a few days on my own, actually allow myself to miss him and reminisce on the days I AM with him and feel happy.
this guy makes me feel content. I dont think he can solve all of my life problems, which is a mistake I have made before when getting all romantic - but, I am content. And that's realistic. He makes me happy, in the moment.
That's why ive been here every day. But i'm starting to wish he WOULD push me away now. Weve been bickering a lot, and I think were like 2 and a half weeks into it. I dont want him to let me.
But if he DIDN'T let me, then that would hurt too.
he has said things like , "tell me your pain", "please, let me into your world, help me understand"..
How can a sweet, neurotic, intelligent, compassionate man like somebody like me this much?
Cant us borderlines ever just fucking relax and ALLOW ourselves to be happy?

met someone

ive also met someone. I broke up with Lew, my partner of just over 3 year - a couple month ago. 
So I went out last friday and went to the crown for like one drink, and it was drum and bass and house music, so I ended up dancing for hours, and then ended up back at this house party. I knew no one, but despite that was badgering everyone for free drugs lol. I eventually got the message when people started to refer to me as "this random crazy girl" who wont stop following people, so I ended up perched on the stairs, my head in my hands, sulking.
Thats when I met Adam, who spoke to me for a little bit. He went in the other room and this other guy came to talk to me who was trying to bribe me to hook up and do god knows what in exchange for some md, (which, I obviously declined to..) and I just said to him 
"I want to go home with him."
So he went and told Adam, who was like "okay.."
and we hooked up that night, but afterwards, I knew I was in trouble, because I had a bounce in my step and couldnt remove the previous night's memories from my mind the next day, and I knew what that meant...like when I was obsessed with Tom and he had only wanted a one night thing, so I kind of hated myself.
The next day we were talking on facebook, and desperate little me thought - sod it. And asked
"do you want me to come finish the vodka for you?"
expecting rejection. Instead - "if you would be so kind.."
Yey!
so I went back round, and ive been there the past week pretty much, just hanging out, hungover in bed with him all day. Contact with Thea has been moved back to a contact centre, because I was too busy fucking him to see my daughter at our house. But my heart was turned black. I have been blocking the situation out, letting it go, letting her down. Instead jumping into relationships, desperate to feel wanted, desperate to fill the emptiness.
This guy is nice. I mean really nice, and cute, and funny, and enthusiastic, and very affectionate. He is too good for me. He knows about all of my problems now, I gingerly told him everything, about Thea, about my BPD, everything. And he said
"youre nice, though. Have a fuck load of baggage like, but youre nice."
and that was good enough for me. He sometimes says things which he doesnt mean to be offensive, but he's just so laid back and honest and comfortable in himself that I accept it. It doesnt stop my over-thinking, insecure brain from running in circles, though.
I havent liked anyone this much for a long time. I cant remember if I felt like this for Lew. I think I did, when we were in the honeymoon stage. But not like this. Not like wanting to worship the ground he walks on, do anything and everything to make him love me and care for me, and think im great.
I want people to see us out together, and think we look cute together. I want to show us off, so egotistical.
We talked, when I was drunk, and I basically revealed how much I like him. I feel like its a weakness, now he knows, what if he takes advantage of that?
He is not like that. He is such a lovely person...but because we havent known each other for long, he wants to take it slow and were sort of on a seeing each other level, no real commitment. But I always want more. I just need the hole in my chest filling, fulfillment.
He's the typical student. Smokes weed like cigarettes, likes video games and Dragonball z, I have a thing for nerds and nerdy things. And his room is so messy. But I like that. I like everything about him. He is so comfortable with himself. And i'm not. This is the problem...but opposites are meant to attract...
the other problem is he has many friends, is a popular person. I have never been social, I hate being social, im not good with groups, im self concious and shy.
he is cute though. I think I have thoroughly enjoyed my time with him.

waste


it just seems like such a waste of a life. I want to do something, theres so much in my mind and I just dont let it out, all of my passion for films and art and everything I could be using, my potential.

but I dont, im on benefits, just getting wrecked, being a selfish person and throwing it all away. Ive given up on my only child. I keep missing contact with her. Social services have ripped my whole life away from me. But I know, deep down, I could have done something about it. I just didnt. I dont have the fight in me. I dont have the drive, or determination to do absolutely anything. Its so frustrating its driving me insane.
i need to write, i need people to know my story, i dont want to just live and then pass away nobody knowing who I was or am

its my worst fear, its crippling me, yet i still just dont do anything.
The time is getting closer. Im coming apart, falling and falling, and I know soon i'm going to end up in Roseberry Park. Only im not exaggerating this time. The way I feel, the things i'm doing...i'm heading for a breakdown.
Im such a fucked up, selfish, over-analytical, tortured person. But I know I have potential. I just really, really want it to be my time to shine, to sort everything out. But im just going to continue doing drugs and drinking and partying, to block everything out, to throw absolutely everything away. I feel like Renton in Skagboys, the fact he had so much and he thrown it away to take heroin. Some people just dont have the drive to lead a regular life, to DO something.
Some people just dont have what it takes to function right, and choose to waste it instead.
Its just such a waste.
When will I be ready to shine? Will I ever be?



not doing well

so i'm not doing very well. 
Where to start....because my daughter is in care and i'm upset at that, I have been turning to drink and falling back into old habits. Not only did I cheat on my partner again last friday, but i've been drinking vodka straight. The person I slept with, I have been obsessing about and non-stop thinking about, and he wont get out of my mind. They also are trying to avoid me...ive been going out without Lew because deep down I know i'm looking for him, but 2 nights ago he went to walk into the same club as me, spotted me and walked straight back out. I even went to their flat and was ringing the bell, but no answer. I hate myself for it. Its not even like they give a shit,  I have Lew at home looking after me and being a wonderful boyfriend. And here's me just thinking of him. That guy. I played it cool when I saw him after THAT night and left the club he was in, saying I was going somewhere else. Now i'm at a point of wanting to tell him straight. Like
"Hi. Do you have any idea how much ive been thinking of you? You knew I had a boyfriend. Yet didnt give a shit. Youre a dick. I hate you. But so wanna fuck you again."
No, I can't do that though.
sigh.
I need this person out of my head before I lose it completely. I just want to know what it meant to him, yet I know fine fact it meant nothing. I was just another girl in a list of one night things hes probably been having. But did he find me attractive? If so how much? Does he hold any sort of feelings for me? Does he think of me?
NO NO NO. I know he doesnt.
I woke up still drunk this weekend, so just continued drinking. I had wine at my mams, then invited a friend round and binge drank cider. Apparently I self harmed, and kept having black outs, like didnt know what I was doing. I havent been like this in a long, long time.
Its because I miss my daughter. I WONT be like this if she was at home, I know that. But I still havent had the chance. I'm falling apart over this person who used me when I was vulnerable and knew I was. And because I dont have Thea.
The neighbour knocked on the door to tell us to turn the music down, was controlled, but with a hint of agression. Her fucking parrot and dog have been disturbing us since we moved in, and Lew was pissed, so I pushed him back inside, and said 
"i'm sorry, but are you for fucking real?"
cringe. I dont want to be rude to people, especially neighbours. I told her I was trying to get my daughter back and she sneered. I know what she was thinking - "well youre not doing a very good job, are you?"
No. Im not.
The night ended with Lew pummeling into me, battering my face, and me smashing a pint glass over his head. There is blood everywhere, on the walls, on my sheets...
I started seeing things, probably due to excessive alcohol use and sleep deprivation. I knew it was a hallucination, but there was a scary looking big man stood behind me when Lew went to bed. The only frightening thing about it was I knew he wasnt really there, so i'm losing it. Ive been shaking non stop all day. Social services have finally won. Im breaking down, which will only permanently make sure Thea wont be coming back home with us. And you know what? Now, if by some miracle they told us Thea could come home tommorow...I wouldnt know wether to take the offer. If i'm losing it is it the best idea? I really think theres a good chance im having a nervous breakdown. This is horrible. I have to go home and clean up our blood.

my baby girl

so I havent been on here in a long time. Its hard finding the effort to type all of the things going on and vent my frustrations, but my probation officer has been recently encouraging me to start writing my diary again. But why write when I can type? I see this blog like my diary, and enjoy sharing my personal life for others to see.
I have always been concious of my open-ness, wearing my heart on my sleeve and exposing my issues on the internet for the world to see. My family get concerned at how open my facebook statuses are, and say I am opening myself up to criticism and judgement (which I take hard). Although it isnt the best idea at times and I would like to be more reserved, this is simply the way I am. I reveal all about me and my struggles and how I feel, because I like people to know what i'm going through. Im not one of those people who put on a mask and smile when i'm dying inside. Im open, for everyone to see and hear. Maybe too much, but it is just the way I am. I have such blatant honesty. And to be fair I dont think people are flocking round to read this random young girls blog...i'm lucky if any of you read this but I really dont mind. As long as I vent. Its good for me, and for anyone.
Anyway, my daughter, Thea, is now 2 month old and a big baby, weighing 12 pound 9. She is still in foster care, and I am slowly fragmenting. I still feel like I am falling apart. We are trying so hard. But the only way I can explain it is it is like pedalling a bike without the chain on, pedalling on one spot.
So i'm getting worse. I'm abusive to my boyfriend of 3 years every single day. I cant live under the same roof as him, its just little things...but then i'll lose it, lose it because of everything not just him, but it all goes on him. All of my anger at Thea being in care, the way the social workers treat us, my mental health and emotions, everything just spills out onto him. I beat him, insult him...and its breaking both of us. So some time ago now I said
"Lew, I know one day youre going to leave me. Its inevitable." and no matter how much he denied this, I just knew. Everyone has a toleration point. He tolerates so much, there has to be a day where he will snap, attack me back or/and leave me. And over the months I have been preparing myself., as my anger has got more and more out of control. So today was the day. Last night, he got me food from the takeaway and forgot garlic sauce. So there I was, spitting obscenities and put-downs in his face, saying how fucking useless he was and how I wanted to smash him in the face....and he turned round and shoved me. I fell backwards over the seatee, and he was shouting
"YOU DIDNT ASK FOR FUCKING GARLIC. OKAY, SO NO, IM NOT STUPID" 
so I jumped up in blind rage, and the next things were a blur. 
Then he was gone, and I had cuts on my hands and realised I had smashed a glass photo frame, a photo of my little girl and had used it as a weapon. I wailed like an animal and sank to my knees, feeling physically sick at the thought that i'd used a picture of our beautiful daughter to attack him with. I drank the rest of our bottle of cider (yes, we were drinking, and thats slowly going back to how it was again, drinking more often. And its just going to fuck things up more) and went to bed., and wondered how the hell I was going to cope the next day.
I got up this morning, hungover, brushed my teeth and knew Lew would not miss contact with his daughter, so he would come back. So I anticipated his arrival...until at quarter past 9 (contact with Thea is at half past 9 to half 12) I got a phone call off the bitch herself, our social worker Laura, telling me that Thea was ill and contact was cancelled because she had to be taken to the doctors. WHAT.
I argued, saying I had to see if she was okay and you cant just expect me to accept that shes ill and cant hold her and comfort her? But it was cancelled. I again, just broke down with the dissapointing news and the fact that I have no control over my own daughters life and feel like giving up.
Then my new care co-ordinator arrives, part of the mental health team im working with, who I had an appointment with. She had been on the sick for 5 months, when I was meant to be seeing her, slowing the progress that should have been made to get my daughter back in my care. One of my goals was to engage n mental health services, when theyre just as incompetent and shite as social services themselves, and are late constantly and I only get appointments once every couple of month for them to tell me what I already know about my BPD.
I just said to her "im sorry, this is the first time i'm meeting you, everything has gone to shit in the past night and morning, and my past two care workers were obnoxious and shit and I hated them. So im hoping to God its not like that with you".
I can't judge her yet as I have only just met her once, today. But she agreed with Social services already about their decision to cancel contact, that its sensible they dont take her out in the cold. Yeah because it will get worse if shes exposed to like a few seconds of fresh air whilst wrapped in a coat and blanket before getting into a heated car and transported to ours? Arseholes.
Then finally Lew arrived, and I told him contact had been cancelled. He had a face like stone. He'd emotionally numbed himself again, which he does when things get hard. He is the opposite to me, and deals with his problems keeping them locked away in his mind, and on the outside he just turns into a robot, not speaking, laughing or anything. Whereas when i'm depressed I wail and weep and smash things!
So anyway. He arrives, and tells me he is leaving. So that's the next great news I have recieved today. 
So at the end of it all I asked sarah to give me a lift to my mams, and she gave me a hug and said she has had days where everything goes shit at once too.
When everything does go to shit, I find myself going numb. Its weird, when I have time to relax and sit down, I think of all the horrible things in the past, the people who hate me and injustice of everything in the present, and how bleak my future is. Those negative thoughts express themselves as anger, and I tell Lew hes Thick and stupid and ugly. Because I hate myself.
But, when everything just turns out a disaster all at once (which it usually does, everything bad happens at once) I go into a dream-like state and drift through it, the misery so intense that my body cant physically react to it.
I have no hope right now. I feel like I will never get my daughter back. I feel like I will never change, and that Thea will never be able to be in my care, because God forbid I will take my anger out on her and she will end up fucked up like me, like how my Dad fucked me up because he was angry and controlling all throughout my childhood. And I just want her to be happy. I might never change, so I dont think she will ever be back in my care. Im close to cracking and the police will end up being called and that would be it, the court will not allow her back home. But the only reason I am more unstable is BECAUSE she is in care. Im done with everything.

latest experience with the SS

You know im at the end of my pregnancy and she will be arriving any moment as im 3 days past my due date, and 2 days ago was getting signs of contractions so couldnt make a social worker meeting....I had also rang and told them that my mental health issues had got worse and that I wouldnt be capable of going to a meeting for the sake of my well-being and the risk of me breaking down and becoming abusive, despite that probably being noted as another risk....but never the less, on the day of the meeting I had signs of early labour and had run a bath as instructed and was sat in there when they turned up at the door. My partner told them that it wasnt the time and that I had signs of early labour and was in the bath. They invited themselves in, sat down and intimadated him and pushed him to get me out of the bath to see them. I had to waste the hot water I had ran and get out, soaking wet with a towel round my head, with abdominal pains and sit while they chastized me in my own living room. Yet I felt I didnt even have the energy to argue, just sat staring blankly...and they knew this. They know im on the verge of a breakdown, they know I am vulnerable so it'll be so much easier. I wanted to scream at them to get out of my house and leave me alone...but i'm looking at filing an official complaint at that incident.

Ive lost her

welp, Social Services are glad to see that they have finally broke my spirit. Forget all this crap about "never give up!" and stuff that happens in the movies. I'm being real.
We will NEVER be good enough for them.
Over the past couple of weeks, its been a journey in a short period of time since finding out Thea meets the threshold for child protection. At first I had similar feelings to now, I gave up, thought it was all over but then I thought no, if they want me to improve then I will do just that..
so I worked and I worked. They gave me 9 appointments in the same week. Anger management screening. Probation. Fulcrum drug service, twice. (for my tramadol use).  Family class.  We also had 4 appointments related to housing, house viewings, housing services which we had arranged of our own accord because im living in mice-infested shared accomodation, which social services have not helped with at all...
so, going from an un-productive binge drinker with no prospects and not being able to make just ONE appointment a week by forgetting or drinking too much - I have gone to this. I felt ill with the strain I put on myself. My mental health has been a long-running battle with my pro-activeness, I have never been good at doing things on my own, I am totally co-dependant.
But thinking of my daughter, I did this. I surprised myself, running to all of these appointments, getting up at ridiculously early times...but I did it.
Then we had the child protection meeting.
They had looked into the appointments I had made and loosely acknowledged that I had went to them all. So I responded with the fact that that was a great achievement for me. They told me I shouldnt be putting too much strain on myself and should have re-arranged appointments so I didnt have too much on my plate.
I responded with the fact that if I had tried to re-arrange on the basis that I found it too much I would have been criticized and told I "wasnt engaging" and was being irresponsible and lazy, which is true.
I've been distracted from my writing flow now because Jason came in and I asked him for a smoke lol...
but basically this is why most people who've experienced Social Services think theyre arseholes. They ACTUALLY ARE. They WANT to take your child.
Please, anyone who has just had the news theyre getting involved...take my tips
1. Do not disagree with ANYTHING they say, it digs a deeper hole and they say you're not engaging, even if what tthey say is unfair. If something is untrue entirely speak up, but if they criticize an aspect of your life and exaggerate it, do not point this out.
2. expect ANYTHING. They thrown the news on us out of nowhere. They told us they werent all about taking children from parents the first week, couple weeks later thats exactly what they did.
3. Make EVERY SINGLE appointment they give you.
They will use anything and everything, past present future and use it against you. They dont want you to have your child, they WANT to remove them, despite what they tell you.
It's too late for me. I was struggling from the beginning with the thought of having a baby with the mental damage ive recieved, the emotional issues I have. But I thought just maybe i'd get the chance, but its been stolen from me before i've even gave birth to her.
After this meeting, they gave me a proposition - if we agreed to her going into foster care NOW, we would get to meet the carers, discuss what routines we want putting into her daily routine...guess what our social workers chosen times were? Monday to friday, 2 hours supervised a day. Supervised. Like I would abuse my child.
I'm not going to bond with her. I'll still go to court, but they have taken my determination and they know it. I'm not going to bond properly due to my BPD and the restricted time I get to see her. MY child, that I grown in MY body, who is STILL in my body. They get to do this. I just feel like it's all over. I've lost her already. Nothing I do will ever be acknowledged. I have gone to AMAZING lengths compared to how capable I once was.
It's all been for nothing.
I'm not going to bond and feel like she's not my daughter anymore. I cant fight for all of that time, seeing her for 2 hours a day for a month and then they assess it, just to turn around and point out more nit-picked "risks"
"you threw a crisp packet on the street on Monday 1.35 pm...RECKLESS CARELESS NOT CAPABLE."
I have never went through such injustice in my life.
I just cant believe ive lost her.

update

i'm feeling numb/a little better recently. The fact that im still in shared accomodation is irritating me and taking it out of me a little...but its something that I have to live with. I have to manage my anger and stress levels. Its so easy, though, when a person slams past my room talking loudly no matter what time of day it is, to not think "this isnt fair! I shouldnt be here! I feel invaded, my privacy has gone!" those are the types of thoughts I have, and its about control, too. The fact that I have no control of people pottering about the other side of the wall infuriates me, because of my many control-freak traits.
I have lost connection with Thea. I am still carrying her, but my mind has disconnected any love and exictement I felt about the pregnancy. Now all that is left is fear. She is so big...I'M so big now, I can feel her wriggling and kicking, and it is like something out of Alien...
but I used to smile proudly when she did that. When she was my daughter without slimeballs not having any say in where my child goes. MY child. I dont understand it...
its silly. But I feel like she's not my child anymore. If people have the power to do this before I even get a chance to try and raise my first child...then what else are they capable of? I feel completely helpless. I look down at my orb of a stomach and it just makes me feel ashamed. Ashamed for getting pregnant in the first place, when I have such an erratic life...ashamed of not being able to try harder to change for her.
I went to the assessment meeting to read over what they had wrote on our case. It was me, Lew (my boyfriend), his sister, mother, father, my mother and a mental health solicitor. - who was, in fact , by first impressions go - very good and supportive towards me.
The assessment was crushing. I cant even explain...it was just a review of my life, how my upbringing didnt go right, how I couldnt do anything right...it was the ultimate confidence basher, designed to beat the spirit out of people. 
Oh God I hate them people. No wonder social services get such a bad wrap...but i'm helpless. Theyre a mass organization, i'm ONE person...who they think is scum, by how theyve made me sound...
im going through a rare stage of numb-ness at the moment...it only comes around when im going through something really heart rendering, a proper bash to my life. It happened in foster care when I was 13 (was there for 6 month) and when I was homeless last year in November.
It's like my mind and heart's defense mechanism..it just seems to shut down...inside my mind i'm wondering why i'm not screaming, cutting myself etc. but all of my energy has gone, and I seem to accept the fact that its not going to change anything, and drift through the experience, inside my own head, just feeling numb and disconnected.

our childs getting taken away

...yeah thats pretty much it.

..I have nothing else to say, I dont think. For once.

I'm carrying my life in my womb. My flesh, my blood, mine. She's mine. Why can they do this? Because I have BPD?
Such a horrible, horrible world...
Such a vile, useless, worthless life ive lived...
I wanted to be a film director, or a journalist. Travel the world.
And I cant even maintain a college course or find somewhere decent to live.
I cant even think enough to use protection.
Why was I even born?
Why was I brought into this world? What was my purpose?
Buddhists believe that this world is hell, a test, a challenge
and we go somewhere better...
but thats not certain. I dont have much belief in anything right now.
But theyre right about the hell part.
There has been nothing purposeful, or good happen in my life.
And I hoped better for Thea, because she happened, was a mistake, but is my little girl.
She might have given me the will to live...
but now ive lost her.
Whats left?
Im worth nothing. And my life is worth nothing.
but i'm too scared of the pain of dying.

1-20 of 22 Blogs   

Previous Posts
madness, posted January 8th, 2014
nothing new, posted November 16th, 2013
tired, posted September 21st, 2013
trolls., posted August 24th, 2013
on the subject of my sexuality..., posted August 11th, 2013
a new, positive outlook. Fighting, posted May 5th, 2013
again, posted May 1st, 2013
in a terrible place, posted April 19th, 2013, 7 comments
crashed, posted April 18th, 2013, 4 comments
I need to talk about something fun and amusing rather than this.., posted March 17th, 2013
the inevitable breakdown., posted March 2nd, 2013, 2 comments
so its going wrong already, posted February 28th, 2013
met someone, posted February 17th, 2013, 2 comments
waste, posted February 17th, 2013
not doing well, posted January 13th, 2013, 2 comments
my baby girl, posted December 17th, 2012
latest experience with the SS, posted October 4th, 2012, 2 comments
Ive lost her, posted August 28th, 2012
update, posted August 11th, 2012
our childs getting taken away, posted August 7th, 2012, 4 comments
friend adding, posted August 5th, 2012, 1 comment
ohhh fantastic., posted August 3rd, 2012
dead of night venting, posted August 1st, 2012
Homeless, bpd etc., posted April 26th, 2012

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